Hello my non existent readers!It is time I told you about the Australian heat. No doubt I could finish it all in one word"unbearable" but that would hardly do justice would it? Afterall it's such a heated topic these days and I am totally fired up to tell you about it.
Heat in the tropics would mean sweat, high humidity and generally lots of coconut water or rooafza. Here the sun steals on you, pierces you and refuses to set before 9 in the night. All the colorful parasols outside cafe's and all the grenada's and iced coffee they offer give you no respite. The leaves are still and even the flies get too hot and lazy to buzz and irritate sometimes. As much as my plants love it and sway toward the sun beam lovingly, I am forced to stand right below the AC all day long lest I should melt.
There is a hole in the ozone they say and the tear is right above us. Why on earth couldn't it shift a little to the right and rest above the ocean? What difference would it make to the water creatures? They live in such deep waters that the sun and ozone are irrelevant entities to them anyways!! As there is noone to check the rays, Mr. Sun here is having a great party throwing himself about. I can almost here my skin sizzle everytime I go outdoors. I look like a sultana after a mere 10 minutes rendezvous with the sun. For those of you who are wondering why I am complaining when I look like some bejewelled, beautiful princess.... a 'sultana' means raisin... and not some arabic beauty who married Alladin. Just by the way (and I don't know why), it took me ages to remember that sultana meant raisin. After calling it Shah Jahan, safira and all other names and linking it to precious stones, lamps with genies etc etc.. the meaning finally sank in.
Sorry for digressing but not wanting to look like a raisin, I usually apply copious amounts of sun tan. To those of you who like sun tan lotion...a big boo!! I hate it. It's sticky and generally leaves me feeling darker even before I have stepped out. Buying the right sun tan lotion and applying it the right way is almost very precise and scientific here. The appropriate SPF range for any particular activity and the upward stroke of application on selected areas of the body have nearly become major degree courses. I don't care, I slosh it on myself till a point when even my aura is soaked in it. I can only hope that it protects me from the mischievious rays of the sun sans ozone and all.
I don't mean to disgrace the heat or the summer in anyway. Afterall, I shall probably miss this heat in another couple of months and perhaps be writing eulogies when I am shivering in the cold. But for now the AC toils to spew some cool air. And I sit under it dreaming of cool coconut water and cocum sherbat....
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
My little 'town'
I have developed a certain fondness for Canberra, I feel very much at home even though it's been only a couple of months since I got here. Perhaps because it was the first place I saw outside of India. Or perhaps it has a subtle beauty that is really refreshing and fulfilling. Or just perhaps home is where the heart is. But whatever be the reason, I feel I've lived here for ages. Everything seems warm and welcoming and yet very familiar and reassuring.
Although Canberra is the country's capital, it is very unassuming and quaint. It looks more like a town than a city. It isn't crowded or polluted and there are huge expanses of open fields, green pastures, untouched hillocks and a generous sprinkle of lakes and water bodies. Most places in Canberra look like picnic spots. Kangaroos roam wild and free, sheeps and cows graze languorously, people go about their lives peacefully and unhurriedly.
The first thing I noticed here was the lack of traffic. Hailing from Bangalore where vehicles move because it's being bumped by the vehicle behind it, this was a relieving and interesting change. Noone's in a hurry to get anywhere. People wait for other vehicles to pass by while they perhaps entertain themselves looking at a twittering bird on a nearby tree. Pedestrian crossings were made here to make a man feel like a king. Vehicles wait reverently while pedestrians cross the road taking their own sweet time. I remember the number of fights I have seen in India over people surrepticiously parking in someone else's place. Here things seem to work like clockwork. One car switches on the indicator to park while the others just glide by continuing their search.
I love the lakes and ponds here. Most are artificial water bodies but they have been planned so well. Ducks, black swans and pelicans float by in the limpid waters. I feed them often and I never knew that ducks had so much personality. Wooden benches border the lakes. Any one of these lakes and the avenue of trees leading to it could feature in a hallmark card. It looks so enriching and green with boughs laden with colorful flowers overhanging the ponds and lakes.
I started writing about Canberra because this morning I was thinking of the new year's eve I spent here. I suppose for most people Sydney would be a better choice as it boasts of it's world famous bonanza of fireworks. We didn't make it to Sydney this time because it was too hot to drive there. We settled for the fireworks in our little 'town'. I haven't seen anything more personal and cute. It took place in the small town square, sombre and for a very short while. There were cozy tents pitched selling burgers, hot dogs and coffee. There was a stage on which a rock band was singing throughout the night testing everything from Beegees to Ricky Martin.
Families had gathered, dressed casually like they were just walking in their own gardens. Almost all the children had fluorescent jewelry to keep them from getting lost. There was a light buzz in the air from all the banter around, a warm breeze drifted about. Then all of a sudden someday shouted the countdown and then there was a spectacle of fireworks. Probably nothing to wrote an article about but it was the total ambience, the enid blyton-ish atmosphere that made it so special. People clapped and whistled and shouted new year greetings to anyone around them. The band then continued playing, the warm breeze drifted some more, most people dispersed but some remained sitting on the soft grass with their families listening to the music welcoming the new year.
To me it was perfect. I don't like crowd and noise. I feel lost in them. Maybe Sydney was a million times better in it's show but we would have had to wait and be shoved in the crowd. We would have had to struggle to get the right vantage point to see the best of the fireworks. Canberra was comfort. We strolled back to our car holding hands, wishing random strangers. Somewhere at a distance music flowed....
Although Canberra is the country's capital, it is very unassuming and quaint. It looks more like a town than a city. It isn't crowded or polluted and there are huge expanses of open fields, green pastures, untouched hillocks and a generous sprinkle of lakes and water bodies. Most places in Canberra look like picnic spots. Kangaroos roam wild and free, sheeps and cows graze languorously, people go about their lives peacefully and unhurriedly.
The first thing I noticed here was the lack of traffic. Hailing from Bangalore where vehicles move because it's being bumped by the vehicle behind it, this was a relieving and interesting change. Noone's in a hurry to get anywhere. People wait for other vehicles to pass by while they perhaps entertain themselves looking at a twittering bird on a nearby tree. Pedestrian crossings were made here to make a man feel like a king. Vehicles wait reverently while pedestrians cross the road taking their own sweet time. I remember the number of fights I have seen in India over people surrepticiously parking in someone else's place. Here things seem to work like clockwork. One car switches on the indicator to park while the others just glide by continuing their search.
I love the lakes and ponds here. Most are artificial water bodies but they have been planned so well. Ducks, black swans and pelicans float by in the limpid waters. I feed them often and I never knew that ducks had so much personality. Wooden benches border the lakes. Any one of these lakes and the avenue of trees leading to it could feature in a hallmark card. It looks so enriching and green with boughs laden with colorful flowers overhanging the ponds and lakes.
I started writing about Canberra because this morning I was thinking of the new year's eve I spent here. I suppose for most people Sydney would be a better choice as it boasts of it's world famous bonanza of fireworks. We didn't make it to Sydney this time because it was too hot to drive there. We settled for the fireworks in our little 'town'. I haven't seen anything more personal and cute. It took place in the small town square, sombre and for a very short while. There were cozy tents pitched selling burgers, hot dogs and coffee. There was a stage on which a rock band was singing throughout the night testing everything from Beegees to Ricky Martin.
Families had gathered, dressed casually like they were just walking in their own gardens. Almost all the children had fluorescent jewelry to keep them from getting lost. There was a light buzz in the air from all the banter around, a warm breeze drifted about. Then all of a sudden someday shouted the countdown and then there was a spectacle of fireworks. Probably nothing to wrote an article about but it was the total ambience, the enid blyton-ish atmosphere that made it so special. People clapped and whistled and shouted new year greetings to anyone around them. The band then continued playing, the warm breeze drifted some more, most people dispersed but some remained sitting on the soft grass with their families listening to the music welcoming the new year.
To me it was perfect. I don't like crowd and noise. I feel lost in them. Maybe Sydney was a million times better in it's show but we would have had to wait and be shoved in the crowd. We would have had to struggle to get the right vantage point to see the best of the fireworks. Canberra was comfort. We strolled back to our car holding hands, wishing random strangers. Somewhere at a distance music flowed....
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Last weekend I spent lazing about like a sloth. I refused to get out of bed and had breakfast and dinner served to me, finger bowl included. They say that most great chefs are men. Sexist remark or not, my husband cooks like a dream.
This was the feast I had for dinner. All this took him less that 2 hours to cook. I didn't get a photo of the breakfast he gave me but it was quite like a work of a french artist. It was extremely ornate and I stared at the food for so long that I almost forgot to eat.
This was the feast I had for dinner. All this took him less that 2 hours to cook. I didn't get a photo of the breakfast he gave me but it was quite like a work of a french artist. It was extremely ornate and I stared at the food for so long that I almost forgot to eat.
I am just getting beyond the point of charring my food and into maintaining the original shape and color of the food. I cook while my husband 'chefs', if I may be allowed to make a verb of it. Needless to say, it's another blessing added to my life and it makes me extremely proud of him.
Food in Australia is a delight. While the whole world shivers and eats winter fruits like apples and pears, I spend my days eating ripe juicy mangoes and lychees. Infact, I haven't eaten such good lychees even in India. Some of the other interesting goodies that I have tried here are: soft, warm, melting, sugary, custard-filled doughnuts; yogurt of all kinds of flavors; chocolates the like of which even Roald dalh missed out; pizzas made by true Ialians with eggplants and pumpkin in them; nachos with beans, cheese and sour cream which are crunchy as well as chewy because of the cheese and warm and soft because of the cooked beans on it; mango kulfi (Australia loves Indian food and I am surprised at the authenticity and the richness of the food.); turkish pide and the variety of dips; sticky balaclavas; delicious, warm, blueberry muffins etc etc etc.
Calories be dammed, atkins diet be cursed and gyms and measuring tapes be forgotten....these are the days when my taste buds are on a roll (literally and otherwise). Food has a newer and greater meaning now, much beyond the precincts of pani puris and masala dosa. I am always ravenous to try different tastes and different cuisines. Seems like I have landed in the right place.
Friday, November 23, 2007
And then...
My life has gone through so much change in the last 2 months. For one thing, it changed it's hemisphere. As if that isn't big enough by itself!
I thought I would record every moment of my life and write about it. Funny narratives, happy narratives, exciting narratives etc etc. But life is just whizzing by and I don't know where to start or how much to write or how to best express experiences that would never be contained in words, least of all a blog entry. Then I thought I'd just put up some photos with elaborate captions but even that would make it pointless to anyone who is wasting their time reading this blog and trying to get a drift of my life over these two months.
So I decided...to hell with the stories and the choronological crap. I'll say what I want to say.
1. Woe betide a person whose name starts with an "a" in Australia. It will invariably get spelt with an "e". You can labour over your British "Aaaiiii" for hours but to the Aussies it sounds nothing better than an "Eeeeiiii". Sigh! I am almost relearning my vowels here.
2. If you have lived in a country where the roads and street names are Vittal Mallya road or Sheshadipuram or Eijipura orBypanahalli it feels very strange to suddenly pronounce words such as Tuggeranong or Amaroo or Belconnen! You miss the hard sounds.
3. Kangaroos, kangaroos and more kangaroos. They are delightful animals. I used to think they were more lighter brownish in colour, but someone really smart around me told me that these guys are lighter too but they haven't had a bath in a while and their coats have become dirty. Oh! well, even that's a cute explanation.
4. Grocery shopping feels like going on a picnic. There are endless things to see, endless plus one things to buy. I think it would take anyone on an average over a year to just get over the bonanza of colors in a grocery store.
5. India prides itself on Amul, Krishna's butter stealing stories, rich milk and curds and yet why is that we haven't gotten past the simple badam milk or rose lassi or the good old chaas?! Passion fruit and pecan yogurt??? Did these guys get innovative or what? I believe these guys would make yogurt out of anything even if there is no milk to start with.
6. Sydney I found was nice, commercial and crowded spaning pricey Victoria malls to cheap China town. I didn't spend too much time there but I think I prefer Canberra. It's more beauiful, nascent, laid back, everyone's scaringly nice and the silence just spreads like a soothing balm. I love all the little lakes it has.
7. The sun sleeps late here. 8'o clock feels like 5 in the evening in India. I don't know if I should be cooking dinner or munching on some tea time snacks then. And sunset is quite theaterical everyday with all the show of colors glittering everywhere. I am sure lots can be written about the morning skies too but I am seldom awake to know much about it. The southern skies are simply poetic though.
8. I have been eating so many different kinds of food ever since I got here. Turkish, Italian, Thai, Chinese or just good old fattening food..yum yum yum. Most vegetarian food outside India seems like diet food. Lettuce leaves and Zuccini and carrots and if they cook it, they would only take it as far as steaming. :-) The pita wraps, the Turkish pide's, the elegant pastas, everything feels healthy to eat. I love it here. Oh! I almost forgot. Right down my building in an asian store they sell sugarcane juice that tastes just as good as those road side juices in India. I am keenly on the lookout of a pani puri stall and what do you know, I might find that too here someday.
9. It's a different life, a different world, different people but the same smiles, the same emotions, the same kindness, the almost same dominoes pizza (trust me on that) and therefore a whole new exciting phase.
10. Maybe it's too personal to say so but I think my husband is the best. See, beyond this I am scared to communicate what I feel lest it turns out like some soppy hallmark card. I hope the superlative suffices.
More later....
I thought I would record every moment of my life and write about it. Funny narratives, happy narratives, exciting narratives etc etc. But life is just whizzing by and I don't know where to start or how much to write or how to best express experiences that would never be contained in words, least of all a blog entry. Then I thought I'd just put up some photos with elaborate captions but even that would make it pointless to anyone who is wasting their time reading this blog and trying to get a drift of my life over these two months.
So I decided...to hell with the stories and the choronological crap. I'll say what I want to say.
1. Woe betide a person whose name starts with an "a" in Australia. It will invariably get spelt with an "e". You can labour over your British "Aaaiiii" for hours but to the Aussies it sounds nothing better than an "Eeeeiiii". Sigh! I am almost relearning my vowels here.
2. If you have lived in a country where the roads and street names are Vittal Mallya road or Sheshadipuram or Eijipura orBypanahalli it feels very strange to suddenly pronounce words such as Tuggeranong or Amaroo or Belconnen! You miss the hard sounds.
3. Kangaroos, kangaroos and more kangaroos. They are delightful animals. I used to think they were more lighter brownish in colour, but someone really smart around me told me that these guys are lighter too but they haven't had a bath in a while and their coats have become dirty. Oh! well, even that's a cute explanation.
4. Grocery shopping feels like going on a picnic. There are endless things to see, endless plus one things to buy. I think it would take anyone on an average over a year to just get over the bonanza of colors in a grocery store.
5. India prides itself on Amul, Krishna's butter stealing stories, rich milk and curds and yet why is that we haven't gotten past the simple badam milk or rose lassi or the good old chaas?! Passion fruit and pecan yogurt??? Did these guys get innovative or what? I believe these guys would make yogurt out of anything even if there is no milk to start with.
6. Sydney I found was nice, commercial and crowded spaning pricey Victoria malls to cheap China town. I didn't spend too much time there but I think I prefer Canberra. It's more beauiful, nascent, laid back, everyone's scaringly nice and the silence just spreads like a soothing balm. I love all the little lakes it has.
7. The sun sleeps late here. 8'o clock feels like 5 in the evening in India. I don't know if I should be cooking dinner or munching on some tea time snacks then. And sunset is quite theaterical everyday with all the show of colors glittering everywhere. I am sure lots can be written about the morning skies too but I am seldom awake to know much about it. The southern skies are simply poetic though.
8. I have been eating so many different kinds of food ever since I got here. Turkish, Italian, Thai, Chinese or just good old fattening food..yum yum yum. Most vegetarian food outside India seems like diet food. Lettuce leaves and Zuccini and carrots and if they cook it, they would only take it as far as steaming. :-) The pita wraps, the Turkish pide's, the elegant pastas, everything feels healthy to eat. I love it here. Oh! I almost forgot. Right down my building in an asian store they sell sugarcane juice that tastes just as good as those road side juices in India. I am keenly on the lookout of a pani puri stall and what do you know, I might find that too here someday.
9. It's a different life, a different world, different people but the same smiles, the same emotions, the same kindness, the almost same dominoes pizza (trust me on that) and therefore a whole new exciting phase.
10. Maybe it's too personal to say so but I think my husband is the best. See, beyond this I am scared to communicate what I feel lest it turns out like some soppy hallmark card. I hope the superlative suffices.
More later....
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Running nose and Brave battles
Being bogged down by a cold is inconvenient at any point but now when the weather is so brilliant and one wishes to spend time outside, harboring some low-life viruses doesn't particularly excite me.Especially when they come uninvited!Not that one would ever invite them in the right senses, even so their lack of appropriate timing is very annoying.
You get up one morning and realise you have to play host to god knows how many famlies of these vile viruses.They sneak in past barriers and lodge themselves comfortably in your lungs and before you know it a wild raucous party has begun!!I woke up this morning feeling horrible and weak.A running nose that would embarrass you if you tilted your head even at a mere 15 degree angle.Sweaty, restless and an irritable feeling.I have been in bed sulking while the mountain of tissues threatens to bury me under.I feel hungry yet I can't stand the thought of food, I sweat but I freeze when I switch the fan on.My running nose has herein qualified me as the human niagra and yet I feel sun dried and stretched and uncomfortable.
What I need right now is some hot peppery potent kashayam that amma makes that would burn my tongue, sooth my throat, give my nose a rest and issue copius amount of smoke from my ears.I also wouldn't mind some occasional pampering and some extra care :)
I admire by body's defences though.I haven't taken a pill so far and my body has been on the job since morning fighting a territorial battle.It has it's message clear.
Territory:Lungs
Occupants:Either Oxygen or Carbon dioxide
Tresspassers:Anything besides the O2 and CO2.
Action:Complete distruction and a word or two of warning before that (I assume so, as I always consider all of me as very civil)
I hate going through a cold.Fevers are much better.They make you drowsy and you can atleast sleep them off.But colds make you restless and fidgety, dry and irritable and the whole day seems wasted sulking and sweating.And there is nothing one can do about it.It takes 7 days to win the battle and 7 days it will be with or without medicines.So for all practical purposes I have my week chartered out for me.
You get up one morning and realise you have to play host to god knows how many famlies of these vile viruses.They sneak in past barriers and lodge themselves comfortably in your lungs and before you know it a wild raucous party has begun!!I woke up this morning feeling horrible and weak.A running nose that would embarrass you if you tilted your head even at a mere 15 degree angle.Sweaty, restless and an irritable feeling.I have been in bed sulking while the mountain of tissues threatens to bury me under.I feel hungry yet I can't stand the thought of food, I sweat but I freeze when I switch the fan on.My running nose has herein qualified me as the human niagra and yet I feel sun dried and stretched and uncomfortable.
What I need right now is some hot peppery potent kashayam that amma makes that would burn my tongue, sooth my throat, give my nose a rest and issue copius amount of smoke from my ears.I also wouldn't mind some occasional pampering and some extra care :)
I admire by body's defences though.I haven't taken a pill so far and my body has been on the job since morning fighting a territorial battle.It has it's message clear.
Territory:Lungs
Occupants:Either Oxygen or Carbon dioxide
Tresspassers:Anything besides the O2 and CO2.
Action:Complete distruction and a word or two of warning before that (I assume so, as I always consider all of me as very civil)
I hate going through a cold.Fevers are much better.They make you drowsy and you can atleast sleep them off.But colds make you restless and fidgety, dry and irritable and the whole day seems wasted sulking and sweating.And there is nothing one can do about it.It takes 7 days to win the battle and 7 days it will be with or without medicines.So for all practical purposes I have my week chartered out for me.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
I rode my dear old bike to office today.In fact every morning for the past couple of weeks my bike has been parked in my garage and every morning it gives me great joy to find it there.Why should this seemingly regular situation give me so much happiness? Because when it comes to my bike..nothing is obvious and regular.
It's been almost 9 years since I bought my bike and in all those years,the number of days it has actually spent parked in my garage can be counted to about one third of an annual calendar.You see, traffic rules change and amazingly they change only on the days I take my bike out.They change erratically and almost vengefully tagerting my bike.When I bought my bike, little did I know I would have so much adventure with it.In fact I am now thinking of attaching a GPS to some curvy corner of my bike.That would definitely make my life easier.Let me tell you how it all started.
One fine day I went to watch a movie with a friend of mine.We decided that I park my bike at some mid point and then ride hers.So I parked it where all the other bikes were parked in a neat row and left. When I returned from the movie, there was no row, no neat parking and certainly no bikes.But what was there was a newly painted, proud, glowing no parking sign.Apparently at twelve that afternoon rules changed and a huge convenient parking slot had been murdered.And with that went my bike.As this was my first experience being seperated from my bike, I didn't know where to go looking for it.I walked into the nearest police station and that's an experience that deserves another blog entry.I walked up to a sub inspector who was busy filing papers.Without looking up he told me that I had walked into the wrong station,that this place was for criminals, murderers and other such interesting characters.As if by cue, a constable walked in with a man handcuffed who was holding a knife and throwing thrifty glances at me...caught apparently..err..red handed.I was out of there in a flash, almost a blur.
So I spent the day running from one station to another, being mislead by the usual bangalorean "straight hoogi madam" directions, figuring out which one had my poor bike.Finally, I spotted the right station paid the fine and rode her back home.That day set the pattern in my life.The next time my bike disappeared from outside my library.I had barely even stepped into the library when I turned around to find the road sans my bike.This other time I had parked it in front of my friend's house like I had been doing for almost 5 years but then...we know the ending...it was gone.Apparently those few feet of tarmac had been made into a main road, I assume because only my bike among a sea of bikes was removed.It doesn't matter where I park my bike, they prey on it take it away with a focussed sadistic plan.
It pains me to see my poor bike clapped in chains, looking very forlorn and hunted everytime I go to rescue her.In fact I feel she has lost her pretty blue sheen due to this repeated abduction.These days she looks quite bereaved, faded and ill at ease on the roads...a little jittery if I may say so.And so considering all that she has gone through, it gives me great joy to find her parked in my garage for the past couple of weeks.I see a definite improvement in her and what with the servicing that I gave her recently, I think she will soon rally around and be as good as new.
It's been almost 9 years since I bought my bike and in all those years,the number of days it has actually spent parked in my garage can be counted to about one third of an annual calendar.You see, traffic rules change and amazingly they change only on the days I take my bike out.They change erratically and almost vengefully tagerting my bike.When I bought my bike, little did I know I would have so much adventure with it.In fact I am now thinking of attaching a GPS to some curvy corner of my bike.That would definitely make my life easier.Let me tell you how it all started.
One fine day I went to watch a movie with a friend of mine.We decided that I park my bike at some mid point and then ride hers.So I parked it where all the other bikes were parked in a neat row and left. When I returned from the movie, there was no row, no neat parking and certainly no bikes.But what was there was a newly painted, proud, glowing no parking sign.Apparently at twelve that afternoon rules changed and a huge convenient parking slot had been murdered.And with that went my bike.As this was my first experience being seperated from my bike, I didn't know where to go looking for it.I walked into the nearest police station and that's an experience that deserves another blog entry.I walked up to a sub inspector who was busy filing papers.Without looking up he told me that I had walked into the wrong station,that this place was for criminals, murderers and other such interesting characters.As if by cue, a constable walked in with a man handcuffed who was holding a knife and throwing thrifty glances at me...caught apparently..err..red handed.I was out of there in a flash, almost a blur.
So I spent the day running from one station to another, being mislead by the usual bangalorean "straight hoogi madam" directions, figuring out which one had my poor bike.Finally, I spotted the right station paid the fine and rode her back home.That day set the pattern in my life.The next time my bike disappeared from outside my library.I had barely even stepped into the library when I turned around to find the road sans my bike.This other time I had parked it in front of my friend's house like I had been doing for almost 5 years but then...we know the ending...it was gone.Apparently those few feet of tarmac had been made into a main road, I assume because only my bike among a sea of bikes was removed.It doesn't matter where I park my bike, they prey on it take it away with a focussed sadistic plan.
It pains me to see my poor bike clapped in chains, looking very forlorn and hunted everytime I go to rescue her.In fact I feel she has lost her pretty blue sheen due to this repeated abduction.These days she looks quite bereaved, faded and ill at ease on the roads...a little jittery if I may say so.And so considering all that she has gone through, it gives me great joy to find her parked in my garage for the past couple of weeks.I see a definite improvement in her and what with the servicing that I gave her recently, I think she will soon rally around and be as good as new.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
My tattoo.
The hiatus ends…(Claps and cheers)…Thank you thank you. (Clapping and cheering continues) “If all of you could please settle down, I would like to say a few words”.
Writing is difficult when the mind is cluttered and occupied with irrelevant thoughts. Simply, I needed time to purge them. And now, with that done and fresh perspectives gained, I start again.
Sometime back I got a permanent tattoo done. Yes, it was painful, Yes, it was very brave of me and No, I am not a junkie. The whole experience was wonderful and in fact worth recounting.
I saw a friend at the gym sporting a beautiful sea horse near her ankle and the desire to get one done for myself gripped me then. Although I was interested, for a few weeks I bobbed around the house wondering if I should actually do it. I asked many people. All their responses (and what a torrent it was!) frankly amused me. It ranged from blatant shock and disapproval to avid appreciation, from disinterest to mild fascination, from wonder to disgust and so on. Some of them even said that if I was depressed I should just safely stick to eating chocolates or if I wanted a change then why don’t I try painting my toes fluorescent green (at least they would be hidden in my shoes).
And so having made up my mind, battling through advices that a tattoo it would be, I had to think of a suitable design. The old clichés such as dolphins and dragons hold no appeal for me; neither do scary sculls and tantric symbols. What design would be worth marring my skin? What design would hold great meaning permanently? What is so close to my heart that I would etch it on myself? A dog I hear you scream. And you are right! I love dogs, I don’t think I could love anything more than dogs. So, it made phenomenal sense to me to get a tattoo of a dog done. If the responses for the idea of getting a tattoo done were huge, then the opinions for the design chosen were overwhelming.
“Oh! my god, why a dog?” “Can’t you come up with something more feminine, like butterflies and pretty angels perhaps?” “Hey, it’s a great idea but are you getting a cartoon of a dog done?” “No comments!” “It will look awesome” and blah blah blah…
My tattooist (Deep) was a young guy who eyed the portrait of the dog I showed him very guardedly. He twitched a bit, twiddled a little more, chewed his lips, walked a few paces away from the picture and viewed it as if it were a master piece at an arts gallery and finally beamed saying he could do an exact replica of the picture. The next day having gathered all my courage, I entered the parlor for a bit of engraving! Everything looked scary from that point on. The needle packet had a warning that said, “This needle WAS sterile in ethylene oxide”. The past tense was definitely unnerving. The manufacturer meant to convey that it was sterilized in ethylene oxide and messed up his verbs with his nouns.
Deep brought out needles and a huge tattoo machine. A tattoo needle is actually a group of several small needles called sharps attached to a needle bar. They are called group, single, liner, round, flat, magnum, shader etc. Needles can be made in groups of 3, 5, 7 or more, depending on what the artist is comfortable with and what the design calls for. The sharps are soldered to a needle bar, and the bar is placed in the tattoo machine through a tube. The machine looks like a drill, reminds you of your dental problems and makes hell of a noise. As he loaded the needle with ink, Deep tried reassuring me by comparing the sensation to a mild bee sting or a pinprick or an ant bite. The truth is there is no such thing as a mild bee sting. When you are stung or bitten…IT HURTS!
And so it began, a 4-hour session of pain and curses, loud drilling noise and numbness. At first Deep moved the needle slowly making small dots to test my pain threshold but soon it became obvious that a dot or a large line would bring forth the same pitch of blood curdling screams and so he began drawing with a uniform speed. I clenched on to a stress ball all that time and almost tore it into two, while Deep carved on diligently and expertly. Every now and then he would look up, dip the needle in more ink, review his progress, give me an encouraging smile and work on. Every now and then, I tried to pull my leg away, scream a bit more, clench my fingers harder and pray hard it would get over the very next instance.
In the end, it was all worth it. Every moment of that apprehension and pain. As I looked at my tattoo when it was finally done, I felt so ecstatic for having decided to get a tattoo. The shading and the fine lines, the depth of emotions in the eyes of the dog, the soft sweep of the fur, the beautiful gray tones…all of it was artful and perfect. I keep gazing at it again and again while post tattoo care was given. To know I will carry this piece of art on me all my life is a wonderful feeling. Tattoos are addictive for a various reasons. People keep getting them done either because they want newer designs or they love to cover their whole body with it or believe it or not they might even get it done to experience the pain over and over again.
Take a look at it yourself.
Writing is difficult when the mind is cluttered and occupied with irrelevant thoughts. Simply, I needed time to purge them. And now, with that done and fresh perspectives gained, I start again.
Sometime back I got a permanent tattoo done. Yes, it was painful, Yes, it was very brave of me and No, I am not a junkie. The whole experience was wonderful and in fact worth recounting.
I saw a friend at the gym sporting a beautiful sea horse near her ankle and the desire to get one done for myself gripped me then. Although I was interested, for a few weeks I bobbed around the house wondering if I should actually do it. I asked many people. All their responses (and what a torrent it was!) frankly amused me. It ranged from blatant shock and disapproval to avid appreciation, from disinterest to mild fascination, from wonder to disgust and so on. Some of them even said that if I was depressed I should just safely stick to eating chocolates or if I wanted a change then why don’t I try painting my toes fluorescent green (at least they would be hidden in my shoes).
And so having made up my mind, battling through advices that a tattoo it would be, I had to think of a suitable design. The old clichés such as dolphins and dragons hold no appeal for me; neither do scary sculls and tantric symbols. What design would be worth marring my skin? What design would hold great meaning permanently? What is so close to my heart that I would etch it on myself? A dog I hear you scream. And you are right! I love dogs, I don’t think I could love anything more than dogs. So, it made phenomenal sense to me to get a tattoo of a dog done. If the responses for the idea of getting a tattoo done were huge, then the opinions for the design chosen were overwhelming.
“Oh! my god, why a dog?” “Can’t you come up with something more feminine, like butterflies and pretty angels perhaps?” “Hey, it’s a great idea but are you getting a cartoon of a dog done?” “No comments!” “It will look awesome” and blah blah blah…
My tattooist (Deep) was a young guy who eyed the portrait of the dog I showed him very guardedly. He twitched a bit, twiddled a little more, chewed his lips, walked a few paces away from the picture and viewed it as if it were a master piece at an arts gallery and finally beamed saying he could do an exact replica of the picture. The next day having gathered all my courage, I entered the parlor for a bit of engraving! Everything looked scary from that point on. The needle packet had a warning that said, “This needle WAS sterile in ethylene oxide”. The past tense was definitely unnerving. The manufacturer meant to convey that it was sterilized in ethylene oxide and messed up his verbs with his nouns.
Deep brought out needles and a huge tattoo machine. A tattoo needle is actually a group of several small needles called sharps attached to a needle bar. They are called group, single, liner, round, flat, magnum, shader etc. Needles can be made in groups of 3, 5, 7 or more, depending on what the artist is comfortable with and what the design calls for. The sharps are soldered to a needle bar, and the bar is placed in the tattoo machine through a tube. The machine looks like a drill, reminds you of your dental problems and makes hell of a noise. As he loaded the needle with ink, Deep tried reassuring me by comparing the sensation to a mild bee sting or a pinprick or an ant bite. The truth is there is no such thing as a mild bee sting. When you are stung or bitten…IT HURTS!
And so it began, a 4-hour session of pain and curses, loud drilling noise and numbness. At first Deep moved the needle slowly making small dots to test my pain threshold but soon it became obvious that a dot or a large line would bring forth the same pitch of blood curdling screams and so he began drawing with a uniform speed. I clenched on to a stress ball all that time and almost tore it into two, while Deep carved on diligently and expertly. Every now and then he would look up, dip the needle in more ink, review his progress, give me an encouraging smile and work on. Every now and then, I tried to pull my leg away, scream a bit more, clench my fingers harder and pray hard it would get over the very next instance.
In the end, it was all worth it. Every moment of that apprehension and pain. As I looked at my tattoo when it was finally done, I felt so ecstatic for having decided to get a tattoo. The shading and the fine lines, the depth of emotions in the eyes of the dog, the soft sweep of the fur, the beautiful gray tones…all of it was artful and perfect. I keep gazing at it again and again while post tattoo care was given. To know I will carry this piece of art on me all my life is a wonderful feeling. Tattoos are addictive for a various reasons. People keep getting them done either because they want newer designs or they love to cover their whole body with it or believe it or not they might even get it done to experience the pain over and over again.
Take a look at it yourself.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
large animal camp-2
Om goshala houses 65 animals rescued from the slaughter houses.They have cows, bulls,buffaloes and calves. It has a huge enclosure where the animals roam free.Most of them are the non descriptive local breed,old and malnourished.In India only 2 states permit slaughtering and that is Kerala and Bengal.The rest is done illegally.
Most people ask me why I make such a big deal about animal slaughter.Once you have decided to kill the animal for food,how does it matter how you do it?I feel only humans are cruel in their killings.Across species we see animals prey on other animals for food.That is ecology.They hunt for what they want,the killing is skilled and swift.But we follow no system,no rules.
Humans are omnivores.There is ample evidence to that in our dental structure.We have incisors to bite, molars to chew and canines to rip and tear.So I have never believed that every human should be a vegetarian.Once we were following some method to obtain our food.There were sects who ate meat and those who survived only on plants.Even amongst those who ate meat,the killings were regular and need based.In different parts of the world different kinds of meat was consumed.For example,in the middle east camel meat is very popular,those who live closer to the poles consume seals,people living along the coast eat different kinds of fish etc.There was a time when people reared their own meat.If a cow or pig was butchered,the meat would last the family for many months.It would be eaten fresh or cured and preserved for the winters.Many factors maintained that balance be it religion, geography,tastes,beliefs etc.
Now there is no balance.As human population increased,so did the killings.Not only that,every country exports meat all over the world.So,now we humans eat everything and many more have converted into meat eaters.We hoard,we waste.Killings are mechanised and not always accurate.Not only for food,meat and other animal product is used in several industries.And this is where the problem comes in.When 1000's of animals have to be killed per day,humane and relatively painless methods of killing take a back seat.
How many of you knew this?
1.In a lorry that should ideally load only 4-5 cows,40 of them are loaded.Animals are dumped one over the other so much so that those right below die of suffocation,fracture or are simply crushed to death before they reach the slaughter houses.
2.Many are tied together and made to walk for miles on end to their own deaths in scorching heat without food or water.When one animal collapses in the chain,the others have to drag the dead along with it.
3.Male calves of all foreign breeds introduced in India for dairy purpose have no use and are immediately sent for slaughter before they can even get their first drop of milk.
4.Calf meat being very minimal is sold by a special name called 'veel' or like in our country mixed with mutton as one can seldom tell the difference.
5.Once loaded into the lorry, to prevent the animals from moving, their eyes are smeared with chilli podwer or tobacco till they go blind and freeze with fear.Their tails are chopped and their flesh gored.
6.Before butchering piping hot water is thrown on them so that they can be deskinned easily.Many a times they are skinned alive.
7.Even the machines that butcher don't always do a perfect job.The animals head isn't severed completely and it is alive as it's sent to the next machine to be deskinned.
8.The moment a bull becomes weak to pull a cart,it becomes useless for the owner and is sent to the slaughter house.
It is said that we are what we eat.I don't know how far that is true or scientifically proven.But logically thinking this argument would hold.We consume meat for the high nutritional contents.But when animals die in such traumatic and fearful conditions definitely there bodies would secrete different kinds of hormones and enzymes all of which infuse into the meat that is consumed.How safe is it then?How would those chemicals react in our bodies?Maybe they are responsible for so many of our medical problems and behavioral changes about which we still don't know.
I am not fanatical to advocate veganism or vegetarianism.I want people to question the quality of their own food.Those who eat meat are the ones who should raise their voices against such cruelty.They have a right to consume safe food what with most of the table animals being grown on artificial feed and excessive hormone injections to fatten them.This perpetration of unnecessary violence has to stop.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Ganganagar bus stop gets converted into a temporary market on festive occasions.Last evening I had been there with my mom to buy flowers and fruits.It was a grey evening with looming dark clouds,the wind was blowing strong and cold.There was a slight drizzle and people were bustling all over to finish their shopping before the downpour.I stopped my bike near a cart selling huge garlands of yellow flowers while my mother went about her purchases.
The man behind the cart was young and happy.He kept looking up at the skies and then at his cart full of flowers.The drizzle only made the flowers look fresher and today was the day he hoped to sell all his flowers.He looked expectantly at the people passing by.I asked him for how long he had been standing there and he said since the afternoon.In the morning he had been to city market bought all those flowers and then set up his shop in the afternoon.
As I was waiting,I saw a man approach the cart.He looked at the young man,patted him twice on the shoulder and said in a very proud voice..."I am an inspector in XYZ police station".I was quite amused by this and was wondering why anyone had to state their profession just to buy flowers.They would look and cost the same to everyone.But that's where I was wrong.The next thing he does is selects couple of garlands for himself,asks the young man to pack it and then looks at him defiantly and repeats again "I am an inspector in XYZ police station".The young man mumbles something,looks very beaten and resigns to a sad smile.To cap this,the inspector's parting words before he walks away without paying for those flowers were "olle vyabara madi".
I just couldn't believe this happened right in front of me and I did nothing about it.It was daylight robbery in every true sense.I asked the young man why he wouldn't pay and he said "Inspectors never pay madam,if we don't give them what they want,they chase us from here and then where would we go?"Ofcourse this man should belong in XYZ police station,only he should be on the other side of those bars!!What kind of unscrupulous and dishonest people we have occupying seats of authority?!He cheats that young man and then ironically crowns it with "olle vyabara madi"!!I was fuming.
My mother came back and and I had to leave.It started to pour heavily and suddenly there was a flurry of activities with vendors covering their goods from the rain and people running for shelter.I looked at the young man again as he placed a blue plastic sheet over those beautiful garlands and walked away towards some shelter looking very dejected.As I left,I sincerely hoped he would have better sales atleast after the rain without being bullied and cheated.
The man behind the cart was young and happy.He kept looking up at the skies and then at his cart full of flowers.The drizzle only made the flowers look fresher and today was the day he hoped to sell all his flowers.He looked expectantly at the people passing by.I asked him for how long he had been standing there and he said since the afternoon.In the morning he had been to city market bought all those flowers and then set up his shop in the afternoon.
As I was waiting,I saw a man approach the cart.He looked at the young man,patted him twice on the shoulder and said in a very proud voice..."I am an inspector in XYZ police station".I was quite amused by this and was wondering why anyone had to state their profession just to buy flowers.They would look and cost the same to everyone.But that's where I was wrong.The next thing he does is selects couple of garlands for himself,asks the young man to pack it and then looks at him defiantly and repeats again "I am an inspector in XYZ police station".The young man mumbles something,looks very beaten and resigns to a sad smile.To cap this,the inspector's parting words before he walks away without paying for those flowers were "olle vyabara madi".
I just couldn't believe this happened right in front of me and I did nothing about it.It was daylight robbery in every true sense.I asked the young man why he wouldn't pay and he said "Inspectors never pay madam,if we don't give them what they want,they chase us from here and then where would we go?"Ofcourse this man should belong in XYZ police station,only he should be on the other side of those bars!!What kind of unscrupulous and dishonest people we have occupying seats of authority?!He cheats that young man and then ironically crowns it with "olle vyabara madi"!!I was fuming.
My mother came back and and I had to leave.It started to pour heavily and suddenly there was a flurry of activities with vendors covering their goods from the rain and people running for shelter.I looked at the young man again as he placed a blue plastic sheet over those beautiful garlands and walked away towards some shelter looking very dejected.As I left,I sincerely hoped he would have better sales atleast after the rain without being bullied and cheated.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Monday, September 18, 2006
Krishna Janmashtami
This is what I was busy doing on Krishna Janmashtami.These rangolis are made by dissolving rice flour in water and then soaking a small piece of cotton in the fluid and drawing the various designs.It is brighter than those done with powders also they stay longer.Traditionally, on Janmashtami tiny feet are drawn from the doorstep uptil the puja room to symbolically depict baby Krishna walking into the house and blessing everyone.The 3rd picture shows a pair of feet inside a radiant circle.My idea was that a little baby can't walk all that distance in one stretch,so he stops for a rest and as he stands with his hands on his tiny hips,the radiance spreads around our house while he stands and looks around. :-)
Krishna is my favorite god.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Certain memories are precious. They should be archived and revisited often. Sometimes children are so naive yet so funny. My mother and I were talking the other day about pregnanacy and children and she had a great story to tell.
The day she was leaving for the hospital to deliver me, she was packing some assorted clothes and napkins into a bag.My brother who was 3 years old was apparently lurking around the house, peering at her with curiosity through big round spectacles. He asked her where she was taking all those clothes. My mom said that she was going to the hospital and that in exchange of those clothes she would get a baby back.To a 3 year old, it was very convincing and sound logic.I was born in the peak of winter.Naturally I cried a lot because it was cold and uncomfortable. My brother I believe walked up to me on the second say, looked very intently from the bawling baby to its mother and then told amma in a serious and sincere tone......" I think it's better if you get those old clothes back. Apparently this baby isn't worth it,it's making too much noise".lolol!
Then was this time when I was really young when my family and I went to a birthday party and needless to say they had to hold me back in chains to prevent me from pouncing on the birthday cake.We finally got to eating all that great food and I was hoping for a second helping but my mother was darting stern,forbiding glances from the other end of the room.When that aunty offered me another huge slice of the cake,I shook my head and said very loudly and earnestly..... "all this generosity is very fine aunty but you see,my mother is making different kinds of face at me from the other end of the room and so I can't eat anymore.She'll scold me when I get back home". Can you imagine the embarrassment my mother must have gone through?And I am very sure somewhere my brother must have been mumbling with his mouth stuffed with cake that he was right about getting back those old clothes.
Children are so lovely sometimes.They say what they think,they have no filters and they are simply hilarious without knowing it.
The day she was leaving for the hospital to deliver me, she was packing some assorted clothes and napkins into a bag.My brother who was 3 years old was apparently lurking around the house, peering at her with curiosity through big round spectacles. He asked her where she was taking all those clothes. My mom said that she was going to the hospital and that in exchange of those clothes she would get a baby back.To a 3 year old, it was very convincing and sound logic.I was born in the peak of winter.Naturally I cried a lot because it was cold and uncomfortable. My brother I believe walked up to me on the second say, looked very intently from the bawling baby to its mother and then told amma in a serious and sincere tone......" I think it's better if you get those old clothes back. Apparently this baby isn't worth it,it's making too much noise".lolol!
Then was this time when I was really young when my family and I went to a birthday party and needless to say they had to hold me back in chains to prevent me from pouncing on the birthday cake.We finally got to eating all that great food and I was hoping for a second helping but my mother was darting stern,forbiding glances from the other end of the room.When that aunty offered me another huge slice of the cake,I shook my head and said very loudly and earnestly..... "all this generosity is very fine aunty but you see,my mother is making different kinds of face at me from the other end of the room and so I can't eat anymore.She'll scold me when I get back home". Can you imagine the embarrassment my mother must have gone through?And I am very sure somewhere my brother must have been mumbling with his mouth stuffed with cake that he was right about getting back those old clothes.
Children are so lovely sometimes.They say what they think,they have no filters and they are simply hilarious without knowing it.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Sometimes I want to take out all the anger in me,put it in a huge bag and dunk it into a large drum of water.I want to hear it sizzle violently and finally die down,then feel that peace seep into me.
Sometimes there seems no respite from the memories of unfair and unhappy times.They keep roiling every now and then,furious and disturbing.
Sometimes it is very hard to forgive and forget,especially those who have hurt you unnecessarily.To let go and never look back.It's amazing how certain people walk on, after they have shaken the dust off,as if they never fell.
Sometimes I want to close my eyes and find when I open them that everything is the way I want it to be..... untangled and beautiful.
Sometimes there seems no respite from the memories of unfair and unhappy times.They keep roiling every now and then,furious and disturbing.
Sometimes it is very hard to forgive and forget,especially those who have hurt you unnecessarily.To let go and never look back.It's amazing how certain people walk on, after they have shaken the dust off,as if they never fell.
Sometimes I want to close my eyes and find when I open them that everything is the way I want it to be..... untangled and beautiful.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
A different view.
I pass by this road twice everyday.Once in the morning and once around 7.30 in the evening.I think it's called Devegowda road,but I am not sure.It's a short stretch of cobbled market street sandwiched between regular busy city roads.The moment I enter it,I always feel I have been transported into a different world.In a city famous for M.G.Road, Commercials, Brigade's, I would say this one quietly and proudly represents a whole different genre of lifestyle, needs, taste and noise levels.
I invariably slow down and take my time passing through this stretch.Ofcourse, the choking,disorganised traffic is one main cause for this,even so.It starts off with hardware stores,oil stained and very messy.I often see the owner sitting behind huge oil drums with a big smile on his face,wiping his fingers with a rag cloth in the feeble hope that they might look clean someday. I cross that to enter a zone of aromas of freshly baked bread and pastries.The bakery always seem to be surrounded by little kids,drooling dogs and even some adventurous horses who wouldn't mind trying a roll of bread or two,if thrown at them.
Grocery stores, stationers, dubious looking drug stores almost appear to nudge each other for some place.Every single crevice has been spotted and duly converted into one shop or another.As you inch into the traffic, a burning, pungent smell would greet you.That would be our chef of the kabab corner trying to master his recipe of chicken tikka,sacrificing a covey of those birds in the process before he gets it right.I pass through all the noise and crowd and suddenly out bursts a mosque shaking hands with a beautiful temple.The silence of the mosque and the clangorous noises from the temple are truly very symphonious.Secularism speaks!The fragrance of fresh flowers and camphor,of herbal oils,mystic powders and roots is very soothing.
Row upon row of vegetable vendors streak the road.Sometimes it gets so crowded one would have to take a U-turn at the pile of tomatoes ,a right turn near the potatoes and another right at the spinach to get back on track.In India,as we all know,the smallest roads have the biggest cows.No one does a better job at sentry duty than them.Quietly and patiently they stand,one beside every vegetable shop,unperturbed by the struggling,exasperated traffic.I see them mostly during the evening,swishing their tails,chewing their cud placidly without a worry in the world.My dear bovine buddhas!
To my left,I see a play ground that converts into a fair every other day.Giant wheels and cotton candy, corn cobs and gypsy women.It's a plethora of visual stimulus.There are garment stores with the gawdiest clothes I have ever seen.Yes ladies and gentlemen,there are people who wear golden dresses with bright shiny purple and green sequins on them.Jewelry stores that sparkle like Alladin's cave.
This whole realm lasts about 4-5 minutes.It's got it all.The flare of colors,the babble of voices,the volley of vendors,the permeating aromas,the throng of vehicles and pedestrians,dogs,cats,cows,sheep....a method and harmony in all the madness.
I invariably slow down and take my time passing through this stretch.Ofcourse, the choking,disorganised traffic is one main cause for this,even so.It starts off with hardware stores,oil stained and very messy.I often see the owner sitting behind huge oil drums with a big smile on his face,wiping his fingers with a rag cloth in the feeble hope that they might look clean someday. I cross that to enter a zone of aromas of freshly baked bread and pastries.The bakery always seem to be surrounded by little kids,drooling dogs and even some adventurous horses who wouldn't mind trying a roll of bread or two,if thrown at them.
Grocery stores, stationers, dubious looking drug stores almost appear to nudge each other for some place.Every single crevice has been spotted and duly converted into one shop or another.As you inch into the traffic, a burning, pungent smell would greet you.That would be our chef of the kabab corner trying to master his recipe of chicken tikka,sacrificing a covey of those birds in the process before he gets it right.I pass through all the noise and crowd and suddenly out bursts a mosque shaking hands with a beautiful temple.The silence of the mosque and the clangorous noises from the temple are truly very symphonious.Secularism speaks!The fragrance of fresh flowers and camphor,of herbal oils,mystic powders and roots is very soothing.
Row upon row of vegetable vendors streak the road.Sometimes it gets so crowded one would have to take a U-turn at the pile of tomatoes ,a right turn near the potatoes and another right at the spinach to get back on track.In India,as we all know,the smallest roads have the biggest cows.No one does a better job at sentry duty than them.Quietly and patiently they stand,one beside every vegetable shop,unperturbed by the struggling,exasperated traffic.I see them mostly during the evening,swishing their tails,chewing their cud placidly without a worry in the world.My dear bovine buddhas!
To my left,I see a play ground that converts into a fair every other day.Giant wheels and cotton candy, corn cobs and gypsy women.It's a plethora of visual stimulus.There are garment stores with the gawdiest clothes I have ever seen.Yes ladies and gentlemen,there are people who wear golden dresses with bright shiny purple and green sequins on them.Jewelry stores that sparkle like Alladin's cave.
This whole realm lasts about 4-5 minutes.It's got it all.The flare of colors,the babble of voices,the volley of vendors,the permeating aromas,the throng of vehicles and pedestrians,dogs,cats,cows,sheep....a method and harmony in all the madness.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Everybody!!! Read and Act..
DOGGY’ S DAY OUT - CUPA DOG SHOW
A Canine Fund Raiser for Animals in aid of
A Sanctuary for Large Animals
Compassion Unlimited Plus Action - CUPA is a registered public charitable Trust for the welfare of animals based in Bangalore. From two tiny rooms in the home of its Founder President, Crystal Rogers, in October 1991, CUPA today operates from three centres. More than 10,000 wild and domestic animals pass through its portals and services range from urban stray dog control to load bearing animal relief centres, from 24 hours, 7 days a week animal shelter and emergency care center, to rehabilitation of wildlife in their indigenous forest zones.
Today, CUPA in Bangalore is synonymous with animal advocacy and welfare. There is an element of personalized care in the busy KVAFSU-CUPA Veterinary Animal Shelter at Hebbal campus that CUPA runs in the heart of Bangalore for all types of animals – stray, wounded, abused, owned or abandoned.
Due to inadequate education and large families, the owners of draught animals as per our Survey, has revealed very limited financial resources at their disposal. Hence, there is a lack of medical treatment, aid or advice on animal care. CUPA is witness to problems faced by the draught animals and farmers in remote villages who have minimal access to medical aid for their animals.
CUPA’s Out-Reach Programme, at present, organises free large animal monthly health camps reaching out to hundreds of animal of farmers, bullock carts and jutka owners. However, there is a crying need of a Sanctuary for large animals to provide the abandoned, the sick and aged large animals with proper medical aid and good care.
To realise CUPA’s dream for such a Sanctuary, a special fun - filled event
for the entire family and children of all ages has been organised in
November 2006 as
Doggy’s Day Out - A Special Dog Show
The event includes pedigree dogs as well as non- pedigree dogs. A memorable day out with your family , friends AND YOUR PET DOG. The date and venue of the event will be informed to you.
The Dog Show will be followed by an Entertainment Programme and your family and pets’ needs will be fulfilled at the variety of stalls at the Show.
To mark this occasion, we will bring out a brochure so
Come.....join hands with us and sponsor an advertisement in our brochure
as One who cares!
KINDLY COMPLETE THE FORM GIVEN BELOW
IN BLOCK LETTERS AND RETURN TO
CUPA, 257, ICROSS, HAL II STAGE,
INDIRANAGAR, BANGALORE - 560 038
TEL: 22947300/22947301 FAX: 22293771
Name of the person/Company:
Address of Person/Company:
Tel/Mobile:
Fax:
Email:
Category of Advertisement: Please tick the relevant Category
B/W Colour
Inside FRONT cover : - Rs.20,000
Inside BACK cover : - Rs.20,000
Back cover : - Rs.25,000
Full Page : Rs.7,500 Rs.10,000
Half Page : Rs.2,500 Rs. 3,000
Quarter Page : Rs.2,500 -
Strips : Rs. 500 -
Size of Full page: 27cm X 20 cm Last date for entry of advertisement matter is 10th October 2006.
Advertisement material:
Cheques/D.D. may kindly be made in favour of ‘ CUPA’:
Please find enclosed Cash/Cheque/D.D. No ..... dt.....for Rs........
Your valued contribution - personal/Company in the brochure are welcome
Donations to CUPA are exempt from Income Tax under section 80G of the IT Act.
A Canine Fund Raiser for Animals in aid of
A Sanctuary for Large Animals
Compassion Unlimited Plus Action - CUPA is a registered public charitable Trust for the welfare of animals based in Bangalore. From two tiny rooms in the home of its Founder President, Crystal Rogers, in October 1991, CUPA today operates from three centres. More than 10,000 wild and domestic animals pass through its portals and services range from urban stray dog control to load bearing animal relief centres, from 24 hours, 7 days a week animal shelter and emergency care center, to rehabilitation of wildlife in their indigenous forest zones.
Today, CUPA in Bangalore is synonymous with animal advocacy and welfare. There is an element of personalized care in the busy KVAFSU-CUPA Veterinary Animal Shelter at Hebbal campus that CUPA runs in the heart of Bangalore for all types of animals – stray, wounded, abused, owned or abandoned.
Due to inadequate education and large families, the owners of draught animals as per our Survey, has revealed very limited financial resources at their disposal. Hence, there is a lack of medical treatment, aid or advice on animal care. CUPA is witness to problems faced by the draught animals and farmers in remote villages who have minimal access to medical aid for their animals.
CUPA’s Out-Reach Programme, at present, organises free large animal monthly health camps reaching out to hundreds of animal of farmers, bullock carts and jutka owners. However, there is a crying need of a Sanctuary for large animals to provide the abandoned, the sick and aged large animals with proper medical aid and good care.
To realise CUPA’s dream for such a Sanctuary, a special fun - filled event
for the entire family and children of all ages has been organised in
November 2006 as
Doggy’s Day Out - A Special Dog Show
The event includes pedigree dogs as well as non- pedigree dogs. A memorable day out with your family , friends AND YOUR PET DOG. The date and venue of the event will be informed to you.
The Dog Show will be followed by an Entertainment Programme and your family and pets’ needs will be fulfilled at the variety of stalls at the Show.
To mark this occasion, we will bring out a brochure so
Come.....join hands with us and sponsor an advertisement in our brochure
as One who cares!
KINDLY COMPLETE THE FORM GIVEN BELOW
IN BLOCK LETTERS AND RETURN TO
CUPA, 257, ICROSS, HAL II STAGE,
INDIRANAGAR, BANGALORE - 560 038
TEL: 22947300/22947301 FAX: 22293771
Name of the person/Company:
Address of Person/Company:
Tel/Mobile:
Fax:
Email:
Category of Advertisement: Please tick the relevant Category
B/W Colour
Inside FRONT cover : - Rs.20,000
Inside BACK cover : - Rs.20,000
Back cover : - Rs.25,000
Full Page : Rs.7,500 Rs.10,000
Half Page : Rs.2,500 Rs. 3,000
Quarter Page : Rs.2,500 -
Strips : Rs. 500 -
Size of Full page: 27cm X 20 cm Last date for entry of advertisement matter is 10th October 2006.
Advertisement material:
Cheques/D.D. may kindly be made in favour of ‘ CUPA’:
Please find enclosed Cash/Cheque/D.D. No ..... dt.....for Rs........
Your valued contribution - personal/Company in the brochure are welcome
Donations to CUPA are exempt from Income Tax under section 80G of the IT Act.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Karthik skydiving
My brother karthik is a very lazy person.Having defined him so accurately I needn't go into indepth explanations as to why I am putting up his experiences on my blog.He went sky diving twice near Charlotte and he hasn't bothered to write about it on his blog. After several futile attempts of coaxing him to write I have taken the task upon myself.
Today I finally saw the video and boy am I ENVIOUS!!!!Just when I was comfortably settled in the thought that after having been to Ladakh, I have conquered the world...I see this video and it thoroughly blows me away.What a magnificant experience to have.
The video is available in google video under the name 'karthik skydiving'.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=120136719761652722&q=karthik+skydiving
This is the mail he sent me describing the whole thing:
"Yeah, the skydiving experience was something that has to be felt...I can't explain it to you. But this is the sequence of events. Its called a 'tandem jump', meaning you are strapped to a harness in front of a professional instructor. So, your life is in his hands! He has the parachute. You just have an altimeter on your wrist, so you know what height you are at. Once I got into the plane, I was like...Ok, this is it! The plane rose 2000 ft with the doors open! Then they closed it. Then there was some humour and stuff like that to lighten the situation. At 12000 ft, the doors open...there is an incredible wind blowing at 140 miles an hour. Its so noisy you have to shout to hear yourself. Then the photographer jumps out as if it means absolutely nothing. That moment when I was standing at the door and looking down...god, I had my heart in my mouth. And then the instructor behind me says..."Reasy, get set, JUMP"!!!
The first 10 seconds of free fall...when you are travelling at 140 miles an hour like a bullet was mind blowing. I thought I was going to die...seriously! Then there was this cool phase when we pierced a cloud and come out of the other side in a fraction of a second! At 14000 feet when you are flying through the air at 140 miles an hour, you feel the whole thing is an illusion...an incredible, unbelievable illusion. Free fall lasted for 1 minute! Think abt falling through the skies for 1 minute...just think...1 minute is eternity when you do things like this!
Then at 5500 feet, he opened the parachute. I didn't even realize it was open. What happened was this...one moment I am whizzing through the skies like a rocket...the next moment everything is still, like a picture. When you are descending from that height in a parachute, you can't feel that you are descending because you don't feel the ground coming closer to you. It just felt like I was sitting there in the sky in the harness...I could see the sun, the clouds and everything below. God, it was simply amazing! The parachute drop lasted 5 minutes...5 minutes of pure ecstacy! And the landing was smooth...landing can be hard you know? People can fracture their legs if they don't land properly. It took me half an hour after that to get back to my senses and reality.
Those 10 seconds after the jump were petrifying and every moment after that was pure bliss. Another cool thing is the silence. When you are free falling, its damn noisy because of the speed at which you are travelling. But when the chute opens, what you hear is pure, pure silence! There is absolutely NO sound at that altitude!
So, that was the essence of the whole thing. No roller coaster ride or anything else I have ever done can match this experience. And to think some people jump from an aeroplane all the time for a living!!
Would I do it again? Hell, yes! The next thing I plan to try is bungee jumping...that's going to be another terrifying experience! After that, I should probably do more "fun" stuff than these "thrill rides"...like scuba diving or something like that. But you never know...you can be a shark's breakfast...so even scuba diving is fraught with dangers!"
Since this comes from a family member, I take the liberty to waive those copyright issues and publish it.
Today I finally saw the video and boy am I ENVIOUS!!!!Just when I was comfortably settled in the thought that after having been to Ladakh, I have conquered the world...I see this video and it thoroughly blows me away.What a magnificant experience to have.
The video is available in google video under the name 'karthik skydiving'.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=120136719761652722&q=karthik+skydiving
This is the mail he sent me describing the whole thing:
"Yeah, the skydiving experience was something that has to be felt...I can't explain it to you. But this is the sequence of events. Its called a 'tandem jump', meaning you are strapped to a harness in front of a professional instructor. So, your life is in his hands! He has the parachute. You just have an altimeter on your wrist, so you know what height you are at. Once I got into the plane, I was like...Ok, this is it! The plane rose 2000 ft with the doors open! Then they closed it. Then there was some humour and stuff like that to lighten the situation. At 12000 ft, the doors open...there is an incredible wind blowing at 140 miles an hour. Its so noisy you have to shout to hear yourself. Then the photographer jumps out as if it means absolutely nothing. That moment when I was standing at the door and looking down...god, I had my heart in my mouth. And then the instructor behind me says..."Reasy, get set, JUMP"!!!
The first 10 seconds of free fall...when you are travelling at 140 miles an hour like a bullet was mind blowing. I thought I was going to die...seriously! Then there was this cool phase when we pierced a cloud and come out of the other side in a fraction of a second! At 14000 feet when you are flying through the air at 140 miles an hour, you feel the whole thing is an illusion...an incredible, unbelievable illusion. Free fall lasted for 1 minute! Think abt falling through the skies for 1 minute...just think...1 minute is eternity when you do things like this!
Then at 5500 feet, he opened the parachute. I didn't even realize it was open. What happened was this...one moment I am whizzing through the skies like a rocket...the next moment everything is still, like a picture. When you are descending from that height in a parachute, you can't feel that you are descending because you don't feel the ground coming closer to you. It just felt like I was sitting there in the sky in the harness...I could see the sun, the clouds and everything below. God, it was simply amazing! The parachute drop lasted 5 minutes...5 minutes of pure ecstacy! And the landing was smooth...landing can be hard you know? People can fracture their legs if they don't land properly. It took me half an hour after that to get back to my senses and reality.
Those 10 seconds after the jump were petrifying and every moment after that was pure bliss. Another cool thing is the silence. When you are free falling, its damn noisy because of the speed at which you are travelling. But when the chute opens, what you hear is pure, pure silence! There is absolutely NO sound at that altitude!
So, that was the essence of the whole thing. No roller coaster ride or anything else I have ever done can match this experience. And to think some people jump from an aeroplane all the time for a living!!
Would I do it again? Hell, yes! The next thing I plan to try is bungee jumping...that's going to be another terrifying experience! After that, I should probably do more "fun" stuff than these "thrill rides"...like scuba diving or something like that. But you never know...you can be a shark's breakfast...so even scuba diving is fraught with dangers!"
Since this comes from a family member, I take the liberty to waive those copyright issues and publish it.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Facts on HIV
As a microbiologist it pains me when people talk umm...rubbish about HIV. I have encountered similar situations when it comes to other perilous organisms like the rabies virus. I have seen educated mothers telling their children not to 'look' at dogs because they have rabies.How on earth do you combat such stupidity? I do not expect everyone to know everything about infections and microorganisms, but don't these people ever think to refer or verify before they confidently talk nonsense?!
These are our so called educated masses. They have access to literature and one hopes a reasonable amount of common sense. Lately rumors have spread that HIV can be transmitted by eating pani puri!! There is something wrong with the way people think in this country. When I was doing my masters in KMC, we did HIV testing on a regular basis and also took up counseling the masses about it. We would show people pictures, graphic ones if possible, so that they would understand. We would have qualified doctors laboring over HIV for hours on end clearing misconceptions and paranoia. Yet,I have seen people adamantly sticking to their senseless beliefs. In so many instances I've seen people retaliate with answers like "doc,we understand what you are saying but believe me HIV spread via towels.....Muniappa,next door got it that way". No matter how hard we tried to clear the poor man's notions, Muniappa's mode of infection always won. My frustration is that you can do wonders when it comes to spreading awareness, you can come up with slogans and pictures to drive the nail in but when some people take leave of their senses and stubbornly stick to their bizzare beliefs, its close to impossible to break that wall.
These are some points everyone should know about HIV :
* Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV) requires ONLY Blood or Semen as it's medium to transmit from one body to another.
* HIV cannot transmit through Saliva (mucous) i.e. even if a HIV-infected patient coughs or smooches and another person is exposed to his sputum (cough) or saliva, the virus still cannot transmit because the concentration of virus particles in sputum is almost NIL & exposure to air anyway kills the virus in fraction of seconds.
* In case the HIV-infected person gets an injury and he is bleeding, the virus can transmit to another person only if the other person has a cut/wound in his body & that too when blood from both persons comes in contact with each other (this is also very very rare unless bleeding is very high) and not otherwise.
* HIV can never survive in any other liquid medium other than blood or semen (& please for God's sake ... never in Pani Puri wala pani).
* Even if one drinks an HIV infected blood (or semen) of someone (ingestion through Gastro Intestinal track), the virus cannot survive in the acidic pH of the stomach. Highest extent of acidity is 0 (practically impossible) so imagine 1 as the pH which is in our stomach. (This pH can burn your own fingers in less than a second if you dip them in that acid).
*Exposure of less than 1 second in AIR KILLS the HIV virus (hence the story of needle pricks in cinema theatres is complete crap). Even if blood from a wound (of infected person) dries up (blood clot), the virus dies and cannot infect anyone else.
* HIV transmission is ONLY an INFECTION i.e. entrance of virus in one's body. It DOES NOT MEAN AIDS.
* An HIV-infected person (after entrance of virus) can progress to a condition of AIDS only after 8 to 10 YEARS .It is not the HIV (virus) that kills a human ..... the virus attacks immune cells (cells that fight against foreign pathogens/antigens) and hence a person's ability to fight against infections & diseases slowly diminishes and the person ultimately dies of a disease which could be as simple as TB.
* Most importantly, HIV is no longer dreadful disease ... it is "CHRONIC MANAGEABLE DISEASE" just like Diabetes or Hypertension.If there is anything you need to know about, it is that prevention of HIV is by avoiding unsafe sex, unsafe blood transfusion (check before taking) / Blood donation (use sterilized needles only) and any blood contact during an accident or where the amount of bleeding is very high.HIV also spreads from the mother to the fetus.
These are our so called educated masses. They have access to literature and one hopes a reasonable amount of common sense. Lately rumors have spread that HIV can be transmitted by eating pani puri!! There is something wrong with the way people think in this country. When I was doing my masters in KMC, we did HIV testing on a regular basis and also took up counseling the masses about it. We would show people pictures, graphic ones if possible, so that they would understand. We would have qualified doctors laboring over HIV for hours on end clearing misconceptions and paranoia. Yet,I have seen people adamantly sticking to their senseless beliefs. In so many instances I've seen people retaliate with answers like "doc,we understand what you are saying but believe me HIV spread via towels.....Muniappa,next door got it that way". No matter how hard we tried to clear the poor man's notions, Muniappa's mode of infection always won. My frustration is that you can do wonders when it comes to spreading awareness, you can come up with slogans and pictures to drive the nail in but when some people take leave of their senses and stubbornly stick to their bizzare beliefs, its close to impossible to break that wall.
These are some points everyone should know about HIV :
* Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV) requires ONLY Blood or Semen as it's medium to transmit from one body to another.
* HIV cannot transmit through Saliva (mucous) i.e. even if a HIV-infected patient coughs or smooches and another person is exposed to his sputum (cough) or saliva, the virus still cannot transmit because the concentration of virus particles in sputum is almost NIL & exposure to air anyway kills the virus in fraction of seconds.
* In case the HIV-infected person gets an injury and he is bleeding, the virus can transmit to another person only if the other person has a cut/wound in his body & that too when blood from both persons comes in contact with each other (this is also very very rare unless bleeding is very high) and not otherwise.
* HIV can never survive in any other liquid medium other than blood or semen (& please for God's sake ... never in Pani Puri wala pani).
* Even if one drinks an HIV infected blood (or semen) of someone (ingestion through Gastro Intestinal track), the virus cannot survive in the acidic pH of the stomach. Highest extent of acidity is 0 (practically impossible) so imagine 1 as the pH which is in our stomach. (This pH can burn your own fingers in less than a second if you dip them in that acid).
*Exposure of less than 1 second in AIR KILLS the HIV virus (hence the story of needle pricks in cinema theatres is complete crap). Even if blood from a wound (of infected person) dries up (blood clot), the virus dies and cannot infect anyone else.
* HIV transmission is ONLY an INFECTION i.e. entrance of virus in one's body. It DOES NOT MEAN AIDS.
* An HIV-infected person (after entrance of virus) can progress to a condition of AIDS only after 8 to 10 YEARS .It is not the HIV (virus) that kills a human ..... the virus attacks immune cells (cells that fight against foreign pathogens/antigens) and hence a person's ability to fight against infections & diseases slowly diminishes and the person ultimately dies of a disease which could be as simple as TB.
* Most importantly, HIV is no longer dreadful disease ... it is "CHRONIC MANAGEABLE DISEASE" just like Diabetes or Hypertension.If there is anything you need to know about, it is that prevention of HIV is by avoiding unsafe sex, unsafe blood transfusion (check before taking) / Blood donation (use sterilized needles only) and any blood contact during an accident or where the amount of bleeding is very high.HIV also spreads from the mother to the fetus.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Reply to the open letter addressed to me ;-)
Jellicles wrote this on August 6th.
Dear Jellicles,
I am feeling as fit as a fiddle. I really hope our little adventure wasn't too harsh on you. How do I ever thank you for carrying 30 kilos of my stuff including my make-up kit and portable TV?!But then recently it has come to my notice that a pair of tweezers and an antenna are missing.I sincerely hope you haven't dropped it on that 'little hillock' you 'trekked' up.Because if you have I know, having a clear conscience as you do, you would be climbing up there once again on a special search mission.
What haven't you done for me!!!Sigh!!Such devotion to my trekking interests.But I disticntly remember telling you that at your 'age' you would need 3 extra pair of lungs, 1 extra rib cage and several tubes of 'Move balm' to aid you arthritic joints. But my agility and vitality clouded your better senses on your fitness condition and you chose to huff and puff up a hillock that was.......ummmm.......LESS THAT 1000M HIGH!!!!!
Though I confer that the expidition was gory, it was quite an eye opener on the evil, irrational side of our religion. All those animal sacrifices have been brought to the notice of animal welfare organizations and one hopes to solve the problem as it is illegal.
But getting back to your bleeding soles, my dear tenderfoot, be of stout heart. Life is full of such err...jagged moments!!Also regarding your mother, I am sure she is thrilled that I gave her citified daughter a chance to enjoy some rustic charm and get out of her expensive leather boots.
Hope to enjoy many more of such memorable moments with you.
Love,
Anushya.
Dear Jellicles,
I am feeling as fit as a fiddle. I really hope our little adventure wasn't too harsh on you. How do I ever thank you for carrying 30 kilos of my stuff including my make-up kit and portable TV?!But then recently it has come to my notice that a pair of tweezers and an antenna are missing.I sincerely hope you haven't dropped it on that 'little hillock' you 'trekked' up.Because if you have I know, having a clear conscience as you do, you would be climbing up there once again on a special search mission.
What haven't you done for me!!!Sigh!!Such devotion to my trekking interests.But I disticntly remember telling you that at your 'age' you would need 3 extra pair of lungs, 1 extra rib cage and several tubes of 'Move balm' to aid you arthritic joints. But my agility and vitality clouded your better senses on your fitness condition and you chose to huff and puff up a hillock that was.......ummmm.......LESS THAT 1000M HIGH!!!!!
Though I confer that the expidition was gory, it was quite an eye opener on the evil, irrational side of our religion. All those animal sacrifices have been brought to the notice of animal welfare organizations and one hopes to solve the problem as it is illegal.
But getting back to your bleeding soles, my dear tenderfoot, be of stout heart. Life is full of such err...jagged moments!!Also regarding your mother, I am sure she is thrilled that I gave her citified daughter a chance to enjoy some rustic charm and get out of her expensive leather boots.
Hope to enjoy many more of such memorable moments with you.
Love,
Anushya.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Ladakh - 3
Leh as I said is like a hill station at 3500 meters. It is open to tourists only for couple of months a year.It is a lazy town, everyone walks at a snail's pace, shops open towards the afternoon and close again in a few hours for a siesta. It is strewn with German cafe's,Tibetan restaurants,rows upon rows of shops selling jewelry and souvenirs,Tibetan open markets,Kashmiri stores selling carpets that are priced in lakhs.We started our tour in Leh on a very informative note. We saw this documentary on Ladakh and its culture, the changes that the land and people were going through under the influence of tourism.The dominating religions there are Buddhism and Islam. Ladakhi's are very friendly,laid back yet very very hard working people. There is a look of serenity on all their faces. I never saw an unhappy child in those 5 days I spent there.They looked like cherubs with rosy cheeks. The Ladakhi have such enviable happy wizened faces.
Arriving at Leh is like suddenly entering an oasis after hours of travel through never-never land. The greenery and sudden burst of life splashed amidst the barren desert is a quenching and refreshing sight. The roads are narrow and lined by ancient houses made of mud and bricks. Strewn all over are Stupas and colorful Gompas. Stupas are globus structures which represent the basic principle of Buddism, i.e. interdependence of everything to everything else and the harmony that exsists between them.
Gompas are monasteries.
The shanti stupa meaning world peace in Japanese was inaugarated by the Dalai lama in 1985. It stands on top of Changspa overlooking a panoramic veiw of distant snow capped mountains cosseting an indolent,ancient town.
11 days,14 friends, 1 unimaginably great trip.So many memories and momets flit by me.To end this I would really want to come up with some famous last lines but in all honesty the only thing that makes perfect sense and is the truth is......'Some experiences in life are too big or too complex that it just cannot be expressed by words or contained by even the choicest of adjectives.'
Arriving at Leh is like suddenly entering an oasis after hours of travel through never-never land. The greenery and sudden burst of life splashed amidst the barren desert is a quenching and refreshing sight. The roads are narrow and lined by ancient houses made of mud and bricks. Strewn all over are Stupas and colorful Gompas. Stupas are globus structures which represent the basic principle of Buddism, i.e. interdependence of everything to everything else and the harmony that exsists between them.
Gompas are monasteries.
The shanti stupa meaning world peace in Japanese was inaugarated by the Dalai lama in 1985. It stands on top of Changspa overlooking a panoramic veiw of distant snow capped mountains cosseting an indolent,ancient town.
Hemis Monastery is one of the richest, biggest and most famous gompa in Ladakh.The monastery houses silver chortens studded with precious and semi precious stones, an impressive library of Tibetan style books, large number of thankas, various images of Buddha and frescoes including the famous "Wheel of Life".To me the monastery signified silence and comfort.
Thiksey is an imposing monastery and one of the finest example of Ladakhi architecture. It contains numerous stupas, statues, wall paintings, swords and a large pillar engraved with the Buddha's teachings. The main prayer hall has a 15 mt high seated Buddha figure.It was getting hotter as the afternoon wore on. Th silence in this monastery was so strong ,it started to ring in my ears. All of us were feeling sleepy and having climbed several steps to get there, we all settled in one tired heap in front of the huge Buddha.One of the monks was sitting reading his scriptures.The windows behind him were open and I just couldn't imagine a more beautiful place for a monastery to be. The tall Buddha seemed to be overlooking all those bare mountains reaching far upto the horizon.
Pangong lake(14000+ft).....This lake had every shade of blue, violet, green and purples I had ever seen.Beyond this point words fail me so I shall let the pictures speak for themselves.
Then there was the cultural show we saw on our last day in Leh. I was really wondering why on earth their dances were so slow until I joined in and realised...at that altitude and with those heavy torquoise studded costumes moving a couple of steps in snychrony is a big feat.
11 days,14 friends, 1 unimaginably great trip.So many memories and momets flit by me.To end this I would really want to come up with some famous last lines but in all honesty the only thing that makes perfect sense and is the truth is......'Some experiences in life are too big or too complex that it just cannot be expressed by words or contained by even the choicest of adjectives.'
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)